


I'm your wettest dream

by villanelles



Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Awsten + Travis' Slumber Party Podcast Submission, Come Eating, Come Shot, Comeplay, Established Relationship, First Time, Hand Jobs, Hyperspermia, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Wet & Messy, a truly upsetting amount of come, as usual this is awsten's fault, this is just a fic about how much awsten comes, very gentle d/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villanelles/pseuds/villanelles
Summary: He hit the spot to make me squirt and let me paint his nuts!Otto finds out that Awsten has a unique medical condition.
Relationships: Awsten Knight/Otto Wood
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	I'm your wettest dream

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. Awsten made a tweet in 2015 that he "came all the way down to my knees. I'm all wet now." and it dealt me -3000 points of such severe psychic damage that I went into a fugue state and wrote this in an hour. I’m sorry you have to read it now.
> 
> This is an out-of-time established relationship fic. Awsten and Otto have recently confessed their feelings to each other and are in the middle of fucking for the first time when Awsten realizes that Otto isn't aware of his case of hyperspermia, a condition where you come a _lot_ and are a horny demon at all times. And, well, look at the evidence. (me gesturing expansively at Awsten's entire existence with that tweet blown up into a green screen background) You're gonna look at me and you're gonna tell me that I'm _WRONG_???
> 
> For legal reasons, this is fiction based on fictionalized versions of real people and if you saw me write this no you didn't ♥

It’s the first time Otto has ever jerked him off, and Awsten is about to have a panic attack.

“Oh my god, Otto, _Otto_ —” The threads of hot, electric pleasure in his stomach are tightening fast with every upstroke of Otto’s hand as he speeds up, Awsten’s hips stuttering as he loses any sense of rhythm. There’s this callus on Otto’s palm just beneath his ring finger from drumming, and it’s rolling over the sensitive nerve under the head of Awsten’s dick, every twist of Otto’s wrist shredding his self-control.

Awsten wants to come so fucking bad, but the coppery tang of panic is spreading over his tongue and clenching his throat shut. Otto doesn’t know, they’ve never done this so he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and of _course_ Awsten didn’t think about it until right this second. It’s normal to him, but he’s pretty sure anyone else would find it fucking weird, and maybe even disgusting, and what if Otto is in that majority? What if he freaks out? What if this is the first and last time they do this because he won’t want to touch Awsten after this?

Otto was busily pressing kisses to his sweaty throat just under his ear a second ago, and Awsten is too busy panicking to notice the tip of Otto’s nose nuzzling the shell of his ear, the brush of lips against his tragus, until that solid, husky voice whispers directly into his ear, “You gonna come for me, Awsten?”

His voice vibrates directly down a nerve that somehow connects from Awsten’s ear to his dick, twanging it like a goddamned guitar string, and just like that, his orgasm is slamming into his gut like a freight train taking out a fucking scooter. Oh god, he’s coming—

“Fuck, fuck, I’m coming- Otto!” Every thread of pleasure snaps at once and he bows off the bed like he’s being electrocuted, abs clenching so hard it almost hurts before suddenly relaxing and dropping him back onto the bed, his hips jumping into Otto’s grip as he comes. A long groan punches its way out of his throat as the first drops of come hit his stomach, and it keeps warbling out even as the air in his lungs runs out and he’s drawing on nothing.

“So good, so good for me,” Otto is muttering into his ear, but Awsten barely hears him. He’s coming, the first drops replaced by long pulses of come that stripe his stomach and Otto’s fist, his hips still jumping hard with each throb of his dick, and he can hardly gulp another breath before he’s moaning again, voice jumping in time with each pulse from his core. Otto’s going to notice in a second, he’s going to see.

“You’re so good, Awsten.” Otto is kissing him, dipping his tongue into Awsten’s mouth, and Awsten opens up for him, moan wheedling down into a whine that he buries in Otto’s mouth. His hips jump into Otto’s hand, over and over, and he’s vaguely aware of how slick Otto’s palm is, the faintest wet sound on every stroke. Come is puddling in the slightly concave arch of his stomach, pooling in his bellybutton now, and he’s still coming.

“Otto, god, holy _shit_ ,” he whimpers, back arching. A stripe of come spills off of his stomach and rolls down his hip onto the bed. He’s only vaguely aware of it. He should be freaking out, should be worried about Otto’s sheets, should be panicking that Otto is going to notice that he's glazing himself like a human toaster strudel and freak out at any moment about how much he’s coming, but Awsten is coming, and as usual is floating somewhere to the side of consciousness.

“Awsten—?” He’s panting hard, heart slamming into his ribs as his hips finally start slowing, balls clenching hard and drawing up to force the last few drops out of him. Otto’s stopped moving his hand, either in shock or to keep from overstimulating him, but his palm is squelching with every abortive final thrust of Awsten’s hips as he finally stops coming. What he hopes is the final stripe hits his stomach with a sound not unlike a splash. 

His head drops to the bed hard and he sucks in deep, shaky breaths of air. His entire body is buzzing with pinpricks of sensation like it fell asleep, but he can feel how wet he is, spread from chest to thighs and rapidly cooling his skin as the air hits it. Awsten starts shaking, just a little, and another long pulse of come catches him by surprise. The sound as it hits his soaked stomach is definitely a splash, and it sounds so fucking loud all of a sudden, because Otto is quiet.

“Awsten, what-” Otto lets go of him so gently, but it still makes him groan. His dick rests against his lower stomach where another fucking droplet of come leaks out of the tip, and he _whines_. It’s too much sensation, as usual, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it. His entire body is throbbing.

After a few seconds, or maybe a few minutes, Awsten peels his eyelids open and is greeted with the sight of Otto straddling his thighs, a perfectly normal amount of come striped on his own abdomen as he examines his dripping hand like he’s never seen it before. He doesn’t look disgusted, or even upset, but it takes Awsten a minute to understand the look on Otto’s face, a terrifyingly long minute of bliss thudding dully in every corner of his body except his chest, where he’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack.

It’s _fascination_.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve-” Awsten swallows down a fist-sized lump in his throat. He's shaking harder now, pinned to the bed under Otto's thighs but shaking all the same, and he doesn't think it's entirely due to his body temperature plummeting. “I should’ve said something before, Otto.”

“This has happened before?” Otto finally looks away from his soaking wet hand and meets Awsten’s eyes. He’s not judging. He’s not disgusted. There are trails of come dripping down his wrist like he was holding an ice cream cone under the blazing sun, and there’s a slant of a smile playing at his mouth, a flash of white teeth as he seems to be deciding if he should look surprised or not.

“It happens _every_ time.” Otto finally seems to hear the shame in his voice, seems to feel the damp tremble of his ribs against Otto’s knees, and reaches out like he’s going to touch Awsten’s cheek reassuringly, except he uses the hand absolutely drenched in come and only notices at the last second. Awsten huffs out a laugh despite the mortification sitting hard in the center of his chest like a rock lodged in his lungs, and it sounds a little damp.

It’s only when Otto jerks the come-hand away and replaces it with the dry one, cupping Awsten’s cheek and brushing at him with his thumb, that Awsten realizes he’s crying. Otto is brushing away a tear that rolled down his face without his permission or notice. He didn’t even feel the telltale pinpricks in his eyes before it happened, tears just materialized and started rolling down his cheeks without any fanfare.

Otto presses his wet hand into Awsten’s wetter chest and leans down to kiss at the tears dripping down the other side of his face, murmuring “it’s okay, please don’t cry, it’s okay,” and Awsten can’t ever seem to stop himself from coming _or_ crying, but he makes a solid effort.

“No one else has ever seen it happen like that, and I forgot it’s not- it’s not normal, at all, but I fucking- I gush come. I’m like a goddamned fire hose filled with come, and it’s okay if that grosses you out, it’s fucking disgusting and I’m an abnormal freak of na-”

Otto slaps the come-hand over his mouth, because it’s the one he has free.

“Awsten, stop. You’re not gross, and you’re a freak for a lot of things, but not for this.” Awsten grips at his fingers and tries to pry the hand away from his mouth, making a muffled noise of dissent into his skin, but Otto is strong as shit. His palm is very wet, and realistically it should slide with some pressure, but Otto’s determined.

“No, you’re gonna have to just listen to me. I love you, and I don’t care if you- _gush_ come. I fucking like it, Awsten.” Otto is so determined to stop his self-loathing stream of consciousness that he doesn’t notice he’s pressing Awsten’s come into his mouth, or he doesn’t care. He’s looking down at Awsten with that achingly earnest self-righteousness he gets when he’s defending someone he loves, and it saps all thought of disagreeing out of Awsten’s body just like that, settles him, draping over him like a blanket to block out all his panic.

“You coming is probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, okay? And you coming that much, it caught me off guard, but that’s _hot_ , Aws, it’s so fucking hot that I made you come that much.” His eyes are big and dark, sparkling bright with lust. Awsten feels pinned to the bed by his gaze. “I made you come so much that it looks like a bulk bottle of lotion exploded all over you.”

He looks so serious, but his lips quirk up to one side just for a second before he gets them under control. He thinks he’s so fucking funny. _Asshole_ , Awsten thinks fondly, and licks his palm. Otto’s nose crinkles, but he doesn’t let up.

“You came so much that it looks like I spilled a milk pail on you in the middle of having sex.” Awsten silently rolls his dampened eyes and licks Otto’s palm again, but he’s not budging. He’s pressing his sharp, sweet mouth into a firm line to hold onto his composure, stroking at Awsten’s wet jawline with the pad of his thumb.

“You came so much that if I smacked the bed hard enough right now, the puddle of nut in your bellybutton would probably ripple like that water cup in Jurassic Park.”

There’s a second of stunned silence, and then Awsten can’t help it, he barks out a laugh against Otto’s cummy palm, and then Otto is bowing down over top of him and they’re both laughing helplessly. Otto’s fingers spread come across Awsten’s face and onto the bed when he drops that hand down to hold himself up off of the ocean of come on Awsten’s slick abdomen. Awsten can feel it dribbling down both of his sides in rivulets onto the bed, but he can’t stop laughing, and the damage is already done, anyway. 

Otto’s hair drapes down over them both and shuts them off from the world with a sheet of dark curls, just the two of them and their crumpled-up laughing faces, Otto beaming as bright as the sun.

“I fucking love you,” Awsten wheezes, discreetly swiping his fingers through the come on his hipbone before he tucks a long, frizzy curl behind Otto’s ear. “I love you,” he says again, less hysterically. Otto briefly closes his eyes in exasperation, still laughing, and fixes Awsten with that stare again.

“Was there come on your hand?” He takes Awsten’s renewed giggling as the yes that it is, and wrinkles his nose. “I love you, but I’m making you change the sheets for that after we shower.”

“Otto! You _know_ I never learned how to use a fitted sheet and never will! I thought you said you _loved_ me,” Awsten says, as fake-betrayed as he can manage while still laughing. Otto’s grinning, but his gaze is dark and hot as he swipes his thumb through the come on Awsten’s cheek and presses the pad against Awsten’s lower lip. He opens up instantly, taking Otto’s thumb into his mouth and rolling his tongue over every inch of his skin, moaning just to see Otto lose a little composure, take his own lip between his teeth.

“I do,” Otto whispers, and Awsten knows it, because his mouth is still wet with his own come when Otto leans down to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> Summary lyric credit to the song "Yummy" by Ayesha Erotica, fic title credit to the song "Make U Cum" by Ayesha Erotica. Feel free to scream at me about awtto on tumblr or twitter!!


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